Coastal Erosion

by Rachelle Paige

  But here he was. He’d stumbled into her path, and he wasn’t trying to woo her back; he was trying to start a fight.

  “I think I need to make a phone call, if you’ll excuse me?” He pushed his chair back and walked away from the table.

  “Take a nap too, you look dreadful,” she called out after him.

  He would sleep but only after he’d cleared his conscience of the two strikes against him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The sun warmed her upturned face as Kim leaned back on the single piece of patio furniture she owned, a very old and tattered chaise lounge. Her fingers ran along the edge, feeling for the bare spots and rips in the weave. She fidgeted, tracing the frame of the chair in a constant up down rhythm as her mind raced. Poking holes in the fabric as she prodded mentally against everything she thought she understood. She’d returned to the office for a paper she’d left behind on Friday. She needed all her documentation in place or the permits wouldn’t be accepted. When she’d stood up to leave, she’d been intercepted by Paul and hustled into the conference room.

  In her confusion, she’d scanned the room searching for a purpose for his determined eyes and straight-line mouth. Paul had stormed into the office like a thundercloud and immediately descended on her. When her eyes connected with Landon, she was surprised. When she did a double take and saw the sorrow and pity in his eyes, she knew what was coming.

  Involuntarily, her hands had drifted to her stomach to protect where her womb used to be. She’d set her jaw and followed Paul into the conference. Dutifully, she’d sat in a chair and let him question her integrity. She only offered one defense for herself. Working to help the SCL had never been a conflict of interest before as she’d always been on civic projects. Only being requested by Landon had the issue been raised. Maybe she should just be removed from the project.

  He denied her request. Citing her excellent years of service, he promised her a reference but he reiterated how saddened he was by her lapse of judgment. She wasn’t sad. She was angry. Landon’s reentry to her life had been like a space capsule crashing back into the atmosphere.

  She raised the oversized soda she’d picked up at the convenience store to her lips. She’d stopped on her way back home to pick up a few essentials: candy, chips, and a large soda. Maybe a sugar rush or junk food coma would ease the dull ache that throbbed in her chest making her breathless. She felt aimless, adrift without any place to go or anything to do. After all of her encounters with Landon, each more emotionally charged and draining than the last, she’d ended up with nothing. She’d rarely given herself free time over the past decade. Time to herself gave her time to think. And time to think and reflect had her palms itching and her legs twitching.

  Control. Order. Efficiency.

  With her mantra propelling her forward, she slid off the lounge. Maybe she should head over to Phil and Trish’s bar and take a few measurements before they opened for business in the evening. She should start planning out how to best tile the space and what motif they would prefer. The large restrooms gave her plenty of room to let her creativity shine through. She envisioned a massive mosaic that stretched from the walls down and across the entire floor.

  Kim wandered into her kitchen, sliding the glass door shut, and nudging the security stick into place. The rat-a-tat-tat rhythm at her door caught her unawares. She glanced at the clock. She’d spent the better part of an hour mentally circling her problems and eating junk food in the sunshine. Maybe the mailman had a package for her today. Or at least a magazine to distract her.

  Without even glancing out the peephole, Kim unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. Her eyes connected with two pools of blue and awareness light up her body like a fuse charging a stick of dynamite. Dragging in a shaky breath, she tried to slam the door shut again. But Landon’s foot blocked her.

  “Landon, please. Go home. Don’t do this.”

  “Kim, I… I want to say…” he cleared his throat and readjusted his tie.

  Dark circles under his eyes, rumpled clothes, and messy hair gave her the impression he’d been asleep in his car or on a bench in Massengale Park. Kim closed her eyes. She knew she was a mess too. She hadn’t changed out of her skirt suit, although she had spilled half a bag of barbeque chips on her lap and her shirt underneath had come un-tucked. She could smell hot cotton, as if he’d been sitting in the sun, mingled with the cologne she’d bought him as a Valentine’s gift for their one and only holiday together.

  He still wears it.

  The fight, the indignation, and the righteous anger drained out of her. She didn’t want to argue with him. Despite everything, she still wanted his arms around her, pulling her close and keeping her safe. She shouldn’t let him in; she should be done. But after living for a decade with unfinished business between them, she knew she couldn’t go on like that anymore.

  Even if he thought the worst of her.

  “Okay come in,” she said, pulling the door open wide in a moment of weakness and reluctance.

  She swung the door shut behind him and led him over to her little living room. She curled up on one end of the floral couch, tucking her bare feet, no doubt the soles dirty from wandering outside and back in without shoes, under her and placing a hand to hold down the pencil skirt and protect her modesty. What was left of her modesty, anyway.

  Landon passed by her and skirted the low coffee table to sit in one of the two club chairs facing the couch. He sank into the low-backed seat and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs, his hands pressed together, his gaze intent.

  “I wanted to come over and apologize.”

  Kim raised a skeptical eyebrow. “For what?”

  “For getting you fired this morning.”

  She dragged a hand through her hair, smoothing the strands behind her ears. Her professional bun had come undone after she’d made her way home and sprawled in the sun. His eyes widened for a half-second, and she remembered all the times he’d smoothed her hair back for her. The brush of his fingertips against her neck had her shuddering in an instant. Even the memory of his touch could charge the air between them.

  “That’s not the worst thing you’ve done to me. But it is the only thing you’ve done out of spite.”

  He waved his hands. “No, no, no. Kim, it wasn’t like that. Not at all. I was exhausted. I wasn’t thinking, and I slipped up and told Paul about your conflict of interest.”

  She sniggered and rolled her eyes. She wanted to believe him. The Landon she’d loved would never have behaved in this way. She’d thought she’d caught glimpses of him: the easiness of being together, their compatibility on a project, and the way one of them picked up the slack for the other. All had been hallmarks of their too short but, at least to her, golden relationship. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  “Don’t worry,” she replied. “I should have told Paul about both my work with the SCL and our personal conflict of interest long before.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Good question. She opened her mouth, ready to let all the words tumble out and let the consequences follow. Standing before her, his posture relaxed with his hands behind his back and his eyes curious, she stopped herself. She hadn’t learned much during their separation. Losing the love of her life, her baby, and her fertility hadn’t provided much in the way of personal growth. But she had begun to measure her words, more aware of their impact now than ever before.

  “Have you ever wanted a second chance?” she asked.

  “Every day.”

  He held her gaze. She simultaneously wanted him to sweep her up into his arms and to walk out the front door and never return.

  “I just never thought you’d do something out of spite,” she added, unable to shake free from the idea.

  “Kim, I swear, I didn’t. But to discuss that other topic.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, feeling her chest closing in she put her hands on either side of her waist. Talking about the baby made her feel like someone was squeezing h
er into one of those eighteenth century corsets. She couldn’t breathe.

  “If you gave the baby up for adoption, I just want the chance to know our baby.”

  She pushed herself off the ground and walked toward the fireplace on the wall. She paced a figure eight twice before turning back to stare at him.

  “Landon, I don’t get it. You know what happened. Why are you putting this on me? Why are you making me relive every painful detail all over again?”

  Landon remained in his seat but his face hardened. “No, Kim. I have no idea what happened. I went home to Savannah to talk to my parents about my fiancée. I never even mentioned the baby. And when I got back you were gone.”

  Shaking her head side to side, he blurred before her eyes. Wrong, wrong, wrong, she wanted to scream. She had to stay calm and get through this talk with him, and then maybe, for once and for all, they could move on. Without each other. Because she’d never intended for him to find her and marry her out of pity. She didn’t want to rob him of his chance at happiness by being saddled with her. And especially when she went through menopause at twenty-two, she didn’t want to burden him. She’d left to spare him, even if it had nearly killed her to do it.

  “You know I lost the baby.” Kim stopped shaking her head and stood before him, her hands clasped behind her back.

  “How would I know?”

  “I called you when you were in Savannah. I told you I was bleeding and cramping and scared. I told you that I was going to call the doctor. And that’s when you said…”

  Landon’s face turned to ash. He remembered. She didn’t know if she should take in a sigh of relief or feel sorry for him. His words had haunted her for years, but somehow, he’d repressed the memory. Maybe that had been an act of self-preservation. She only wished she’d been able to forget too.

  “It’s not like we wanted this baby anyway.” Landon’s voice sounded far away, like he spoke into the wind on the edge of a cliff.

  She nodded. “So you came for the baby and now you remember the truth. I think it’s time you go home. Go back to Savannah, Landon. There is nothing for you here.”

  “That’s not true. You’re here. Coming back for our child was my excuse. But I came for you. I came to start the life we dreamed about. I came to find you.”

  She closed her eyes. She wanted to believe him. If she could turn her mind off and stop remembering the past hurts, she’d sway into his arms. She’d stop thinking of everything that had happened and been said. She’d press her lips and the rest of her against him until they both stopped caring about anything beyond the moment. Even now, standing before her after the accusations he’d thrown at her only days earlier, she yearned for him. Listening to her heart had started their affair the first time. She couldn’t let herself go through the pain of losing him again. She opened her eyes and took a step back, away from him.

  “Landon, we can’t ever have that life.”

  “Don’t say that. We can figure this out. Neither of us has ended up with anyone else in ten years. Wouldn’t you say that’s a sign?”

  “No, I’d say for my part that’s been my plan.”

  “What? Why?” He frowned.

  If she delayed on giving him an answer, he’d start rocking on his heels. He’d never press her to get to the point. She’d always pressured herself enough without any help.

  “Because when I got to the doctor, they determined that the pregnancy wasn’t viable. It was actually ectopic. And the way in which the fetus had attached, they had to take my uterus.”

  She lowered her head. She didn’t want to see pity or sorrow in his eyes. She’d never wanted that. Telling him the truth, no matter how painful, could set them both free, or at least him. She’d never imagined he’d been waiting for her. He deserved more than what little she could offer. She rubbed her upper arms, chilled despite the humid day.

  “I had a hysterectomy at twenty-two, and I can’t ever have kids. I had to go on the same hormone replacement therapy as my grandma. She took care of me. She brought me here. And I’ve built a good life for myself.”

  She raised her chin. She stared at the wall past his shoulder. She didn’t want to show weakness, but she couldn’t bear to watch him react. Maybe that was her ultimate act of selfishness in the whole endeavor, not allowing him to have any feelings or validate his reactions to her news. But she figured she was owed at least one thing by the universe.

  “I think it’s time you go, Landon. I appreciate your apology, but I’m not the woman you remember.”

  She crossed the room to the door.

  “Yes, you are,” she heard him mumble under his breath.

  She refused to give herself the indulgence of hope. Hope had no room in her careful life. She only believed in what she saw and felt concrete with her hands. She didn’t hold onto intangibles anymore or rely on others to support her. She’d hardened her exterior to protect the terrified woman inside. The one who knew she’d grow old alone.

  Opening the door, she heard his soft footfalls as he retraced his steps. But she didn’t follow his progress. Instead, she stared out her door, watching the palms in her yard flutter in the breeze. The hairs on her arm raised when he approached, and she closed her eyes and held onto the door like a lifeline. Landon placed a hand over hers. Her knees threatened to buckle under her. If she let go of the door, she knew she’d sway into his arm and she’d let their passion overtake her. In the moment, she wouldn’t care. She’d been alone craving his touch for so long that she’d abandon all rational thought gladly. But all of her troubles began by giving into her desires. She had to see this through now as an adult. As much as she longed for him to have come back for her, she couldn’t believe his words. Her heart wanted it too much, and she had to think logically this time. He squeezed her hand gently. And without another word, he left.

  When she opened her eyes, he had blurred into the sunlight, like a retreating desert mirage. Shutting the door and relocking the deadbolt, the ring of her cellphone on the kitchen table saved her from trying to figure out what to do next. She raced to grab the call on the final ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi honey, it’s Grandma. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

  “Oh shoot, is that tonight?” she pressed her fingers to her temples. The unshed tears of anger and frustration had morphed into a headache. She wanted an old movie and her favorite pjs. She was not in the mood for company, even with her best friend slash grandmother.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve had a terrible day,” she mumbled as she crossed the kitchen and slid open the sliding door. Sinking back onto the lounge she took in a deep breath of sea air, the hint of seaweed, fish, and salt all tossed together. Sometimes she missed the hint of campfire that hung in the air year-round back in Wisconsin. But she never missed a chance to enjoy the outdoors.

  “Can we reschedule?” she rested her cheek on one hand, propping up the phone to her ear with the help of gravity and began to fiddle with the hem of her shirt with her free hand. “All I want to do is climb under the covers and sleep for three days.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you at all. What’s going on?”

  “Do you remember the land off Lawrence Road I was working to save with the SCL?”

  “Of course. But honey, you can’t save the whole island. You know that.”

  “I do,” Kim agreed. She took in a deep steadying breath. She hated emotionally unloading on her grandma on the phone. But she had to tell her the truth. Maybe not all of it, but at least the biggest chunk about losing her job.

  “I got put on the project to develop that land. And my association with the SCL came out and I’ve been fired.”

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too. I really loved that job. And I really loved that land. I think with the right team the developer actually might do a decent job, although it still wouldn’t be as good as leaving the acreage alone.”

  “Well I wouldn’t worry about th
at. I don’t think they’ll get very far with building.”

  Her hands stilled on the hem of her shirt. She’d nearly worried the seam loose in her mindless activity as they talked. But Grandma Rose’s tone had her filled with dread and excitement simultaneously. Pushing herself up, she sat crisscross applesauce and held the phone tight in her grip.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That land fell into foreclosure and was sold by the bank. It had never sold before because everyone local knows it’s the old slave quarters for the plantation that used to be over here. I think there might even be a cemetery on that plot. They won’t be able to dig without finding bones and pottery and lord knows what else.”

  Her ears perked up. Could this be true? If so, then maybe her problems would be solved. The land wouldn’t get developed, and Landon would have to go back to Savannah. Of course, she’d still be unemployed, but that meant he’d be gone for good. Kim put a hand to her lower stomach, a phantom cramp, a pain so sharp and reminiscent of that terrible day took her by surprise.

  “When is the next meeting for the SCL?”

  “It’s tomorrow.”

  “Good.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “What’s wrong, honey? You want the land developed?”

  No, it wasn’t exactly that she reasoned. But in her mind she was taking something away from him and she never wanted to do that. Why did one of them have to win and the other lose? Why couldn’t they be a team?

  “It’s just a little more complicated,” Kim replied vaguely.

  “Isn’t it always? New plan if you’re not up for going out, I’ll come over after tap class with a pizza and a movie.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Why not?”

  “What about your…houseguest?”

  “Oh, yeah, about that.” Her grandma paused and the throbbing in her temples resumed. “I was calling for another reason too. I was hoping you might be able to help me with Scooter? Just for a night or a few nights or through the weekend?”